


Always Here

by Wintergrew



Series: Post GoL [1]
Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Ash died in 1987, Bittersweet, Canon - Manga, Canon Compliant, Canon Continuation, Closure, F/M, M/M, One Shot, One-Sided Attraction, Post-Canon, Post-Side Story: Garden of Light, Side Story: Garden of Light, Soulmates, Terminal Illnesses, present day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 06:54:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17279204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wintergrew/pseuds/Wintergrew
Summary: When Sing is 48 years old, he receives a call about Eiji.Manga universe, present day. References events in Fly Boy in the Sky, Garden of Light, and New York Sense. Ignores Yasha. Implied one-sided Sing/Eiji. Sing/Akira exists for the sake of following canon.Basically written because I needed more closure.





	Always Here

**Author's Note:**

> So in Fly Boy in the Sky, Eiji's father was said to have been hospitalized for years for liver failure. It was never elaborated on, and I'm keeping it vague on purpose for the sake of not botching medical conditions nearly as much.
> 
> In the Yasha sequel, Sing had a sixteen year old son named Rie/Retsu. I'm completely ignoring Yasha, but I'm keeping him having a son named Retsu. He is the same as the Yasha character in name and age ONLY. Akira is his wife because New York Sense said so. This is not me agreeing or disagreeing with that pairing, simply following that continuity. You can decide if Yut Lung is alive or dead like in Yasha.

“Dinner is ready,” Akira called from the other room. 

 

Sing sighed, setting down the newspaper was reading on the living room table. He was a busy man, but after 20 years of marriage to Akira, he knew better than to ignore her first call to dinner. Not that it was a big loss--she was always a very good cook. He would try to do the cooking sometimes, but their son always complained that she was far superior. He’d argue that he learned from the best growing up. Retsu would just roll his eyes.

 

Sing plopped down in his normal chair. Retsu was already sitting down, slouched over his plate, elbows on the table.

 

“How’s school?” Sing asked him.

 

“Dumb,” he shrugged.

 

“Education is important,” Sing scowled, “You know, I worked hard to be able to get where I am.”

 

“Come on, you didn’t go to high school,” he irritatedly poked at his chicken, “You ‘somehow’ got into an Ivy League college despite dropping out in middle school. When you were my age, you weren’t at school, you were all out on the streets getting involved with gangs.”

 

“Yeah well that was different time!” he scowled, “And Akira, I don’t know why you told him--”

 

“Bullshit,” he slammed his chopsticks down, “Don’t act like everyone doesn’t know you’re still involved with the Chinese mafia. You got lucky that someone in it liked you, education had nothing to do with it.”

 

“Retsu!” Akira scolded him. Retsu ignored her. He stood up from his chair stormed away without another word, probably to his bedroom.

 

“Let him go,” Sing groaned. He butted heads with his son more often than not, but even still he was good at not escalating things further than they had to. Some of the time.

 

“Sing,” his wife’s voice softened. 

 

“He’s right, you know,” he said under his breath, “And that’s what pisses me off. But I don’t  _ want _ him to be like we were, like I still am. I want him to be  _ away  _ from this life. I don’t want him to have to deal with...with the  _ loss  _ so many of us have.”

 

Akira sighed, “You’ve been through a lot, but you’ve still managed to have a big heart and love for your family. Retsu knows you love him, and he’ll know even more the older he gets.”

 

“There’s too much dying in this world. I want him to have a normal life is all.”

 

“Speaking of...Have you visited Eiji yet?”

 

“No,” Sing froze, thrown off by his wife’s sudden interjection, “Not yet.”

 

“His birthday is coming up soon. Why don’t we all visit him together?”

 

\---

 

He knew he was in a nice hospital. Afterall, Eiji did have money that was left to him as well as a successful photography career to pay for the best of the best treatment. Age wise, he had more than a decade before he should retire, years more to hone his trade. He was only turning 53, only five years older than Sing himself. That difference should have seemed larger when they both met as teens, but Eiji always had a youthful innocence to him that made him feel like they were true peers even then. Even as they had gotten older, Eiji always looked very young for his age. Before long, he seemed to always appear eternally younger than Sing.

 

He wasn’t jealous of this. In fact, he really didn’t want to see Eiji anyway else.

 

Being honest, as the decades went on, he did slowly start talking to Eiji less and less. They had been through so much together, even practically living together at one point, but as it is, life merely happens sometimes, leading people to grow apart. Sure, Akira and him would always invite him over for Thanksgiving or Christmas. Some years he would come, others he wouldn’t. Years he did, that would often be it.

 

Additionally, a handful of years ago they had also both fallen victim to the social media rabbithole that was Facebook. Sing made it first, mainly because he found out his son did, and eventually Eiji made one as well to post photography for his fans. Neither of them used it much for personal reasons, but it allowed Sing to have the illusion that he was keeping tabs on him. They direct messaged each other a few times over the course of the years, one of which being a picture of his family he sent.

 

Then several months ago, he got a call.

 

Akira went to visit him the first day she could. Afterall, she knew him even longer than Sing himself did, him being a family friend and all. In fact, it was also through Eiji that the two of them met so many years ago.

 

“He asked about you,” she said when she came back from visiting him the first time.

 

“And?”

 

“I told him you were extremely busy with work lately.”

 

“I see,” Sing fiddled with a pen on the counter.

 

“He laughed and said he could tell I was lying.”

 

“What else did he have to say?” Sing deflected, turned away from his wife quickly, shoving the pen into his pocket.

 

“Oh, he asked how Retsu was. I told him he was doing alright. Said that we make sure he stays off the streets, which he appreciated.”

 

“He would,” he smiled.

 

“So,  _ are  _ you going to see him soon?” she asked, reaching an arm out to him gently.

 

“I’ll call him tomorrow.”

 

To which he kept to his word. Eiji’s voice had sounded more mature than it had before, something that always felt odd to him. He longed for the youthful, happy go lucky voice he would hear oh so long ago. But then he hadn’t truly heard that voice for over thirty years. Though anything was better than this newfound weakness he heard in his voice.

 

“You don’t even drink that much,” Sing had blurted out.

 

“It’s genetic, I guess,” Eiji said all too neutrally for comfort, “My dad’s liver was the same way when he was my age.”

 

“Yeah, well, whatever. I’m sure you’ll get better soon. You know we haven’t been down to Chang Dai in over ten years? How about when you get out we go there? I’ll bring Retsu. Can you believe Nadia’s  _ grandkids _ are hanging around there now? It’ll be nice to see everyone.”

 

“Sing, I--”

 

“I won’t take no for an answer,” Sing found his voice cracking. He immediately hung up. It was probably rude, but he couldn’t stand it. He didn’t even realize he was crying until he felt a single tear fall down his cheek. 

 

And so Sing had continued to behave that way. He didn’t call again, only sending two more generic texts. He most definitely didn't visit. That is, until Akira had convinced Retsu to go with them for Eiji’s 53rd birthday. Even then, Sing had his reservations.

 

“You can’t  _ not  _ go,” she told him point blank, “He’s your friend. Why are you behaving like this?

 

“Because! I don’t...I don’t want to see him like this!”

 

“So what, you’re going to  _ abandon  _ him when he needs you? Refuse to see him one last time? Are you saying that you’re going to be just like  _ him _ ?”

 

His wife’s words hit his heart like a knife. Even as a 48 year old man, he couldn’t help but feel tears welling in his eyes, clouding his vision. She was right. He had to go see him.

 

Eiji’s birthday was luckily a Saturday this year, which meant neither he nor his wife had to work and Retsu didn’t have school. The hospital Eiji was staying at was more upstate, more than an hour drive. “You remember Okumura-san, don’t you?” Akira said to her son in Japanese from the passenger seat. They usually spoke English at home, but having her son stay on top of Japanese was important to her.

 

“Yeah, he was at our house two Christmases ago,” he shrugged as he looked up from his phone in the back seat, “He gave me dirty old photos or something.”

 

“Hey, you should be more grateful,” Sing scolded him in Japanese to keep with his wife, “Eiji is a prolific photographer. People pay big money for his work, to even  _ see _ his work, and he gave them to you for free.”

 

“Maybe before, but no one cares about photography anymore,” he replied in English, “With Instagram and shit,  _ everyone _ is a photographer. Who cares?” With his son’s words, Sing felt anger swell up in him like he hadn’t felt for quite a long time. He swerved the car to the side of the road, pulling over.

 

“Sing!” Akira scolded with genuine concern in her voice.

 

“No!” Sing yelled, “I’m not going to put up with your disrespect like this! Eiji is one of the kindest, nicest people you will ever meet and has gone through more than you would ever know. You have  _ no _ right to speak about him that way. He’s family!”

 

“Whatever,” Retsu rolled his eyes.

 

“No, I’m tired of this! You know when I was your age, if I spoke like that…” Sing started, but then trailed off. He absolutely did speak like that when he was his son’s age. In fact, his inability to care about authority and tradition was part of what caused a lot of the mess that was his life.

 

“Just be nice, Retsu,” Akira cut in for him, “He’s a very nice gentleman who has been a part of my life as long as I can remember. As your father said, he’s family.” Akira looked over to her husband and placed a knowing hand on his arm. Sing took a deep breath, started the car back up, and continued driving.

 

He felt his heart pounding in his chest when they finally pulled into the parking lot. It pounded louder and louder that he was sure his wife and son could hear. Perhaps his heart was failing him and  _ he  _ needed to be a patient. All that sodium he consumed when he was younger might be catching up to him after all.

 

“Let’s go,” Akira put her hand on Sing’s leg. Sing tried to force a smile. Retsu merely sighed shoved his phone into his pocket before grabbing the flowers and gift they had next to him in the back seat. He shoved them both into a large shopping bag to carry a little too carelessly.

 

What Sing heard was true. It was in fact a nice hospital. There was a statue in the front of someone Sing didn’t recognize, perhaps the founder or name sake. The grounds were kept with nice flowers and neatly trimmed shrubs. He was sure Eiji liked that. Eiji loved gardens.

 

Akira had been there a couple of times, so she led the other two to the proper floor and desk to check in. She told the receptionist that they were family friends of Eiji Okumura here to visit him.  The receptionist merely smiled and pointed them to the proper direction. The room on the end with the closed door, she told them.

 

Another nurse guided them and knocked on the door. “Mr. Okumura, some people are here to see you,” she called out to him. She opened the door slowly and entered, Akira and Retsu behind her. Sing, on the other hand, couldn’t help but pause.

 

“Happy birthday!” Akira jovally called out to Eiji.

 

“You remembered,” Sing could hear him respond within, “And Retsu! It’s been how long since I’ve seen you? You’ve sure grown!”

 

“Yes, all three of us are here today, Eiji,” he could hear Akira walk closer to him.

 

“Sing came?” he heard Eiji’s tone turn excited. It brought back memories of a much younger Eiji, and how his face would light up. He was always like a cute puppy dog back then. No wonder he loved that dog so much.

 

“Yeah, of course I came,” Sing stepped through the door as nonchalantly as possible, “You don’t think I’d miss out on your birthday while you’re stuck in the hospital, do you? After all we’ve been through?” Although Sing tried to keep a smile, it hurt him to do so.

 

“I know you don’t like seeing me like this,” Eiji merely smiled sadly. He was right. Sing  _ hated  _ looking at him like this.

 

Eiji had always been on the smaller side, but he looked painfully thin and with a sickening yellow hue to his skin. He was covered in all sorts of tubes and wires poking in and out of him. His face was still soft and definitively  _ Eiji _ , but the youthfulness was gone. Instead of always looking nearly ten years younger than he always did, suddenly he looked ten years  _ older _ . It frightened Sing.

 

“You look better than ever,” Sing widened his smile artificially and touched him playfully on the shoulder.

 

“Come on Sing, I know I look awful,” he laughed, “But I’m not dead yet.”

 

“Please don’t talk like that.”

 

Eiji smiled sympathetically and turned to Retsu to speak, “So, Retsu I didn’t get an answer from you. How old are you now? Fourteen? Fifteen?”

 

“Sixteen,” Retsu responded, looking at his shoes, “I’m turning seventeen later this year.”

 

“Wow, that’s amazing,” Eiji smiled, leaning forward to support his chin on his hands, “It’s amazing how time flies. I remember when you were just a tiny thing. In fact, I can remember when your  _ mother _ was just a tiny thing. Geez, I even met your dad when he was two whole years younger than you are now. Crazy, isn’t it?”

 

“I guess so…” 

 

“Retsu, why don’t you give him what we brought?” Akira nudged her son.

 

“Oh you shouldn’t have brought me anything,” Eiji insisted. Eiji was beloved for his photography, so he already had birthday gifts and get well soon flowers, cards, balloons, and the like littering his room. It gave some comfort to Sing that Eiji knew people care deeply about him. Though of course, knowing Eiji, he probably objected to others worrying themselves on his behalf.

 

“You wouldn’t think we’d come here empty handed on your birthday, would you?” Sing smiled, more genuinely than before. A genuine smile this time, because he knew Eiji wouldn’t ever expect to or consider receiving anything. It was something that never changed about Eiji. He was always the sort of person to give and give and give, but never once expected anything in return.

 

Akira took the bouquet from her son and placed it on Eiji’s lap. It was a blue flower assortment that she picked up from their local florist earlier that day. Retsu then reached into the shopping bag he used to carry it. It was a simple box the size of three or so shoeboxes that Sing wrapped himself. He didn’t tell his wife or Retsu what it was--Akira didn’t ask and Retsu didn’t care.

 

“What could this be?” Eiji jokingly shook by his ear it with mock anticipation. His hands were weak, making Sing want to rush over and help him open it. He knew Eiji would object, claiming he could open it on his own, so he resisted. Slowly, Eiji ripped away the paper and revealed a cardboard box. Inside, it was filled with various things. 

 

Some children’s clothes, a few old toys, a couple picture frames, and a few other things one would expect to find in a child’s room. Eiji froze, his expression was blank, but tears instantly formed in his eyes, slowly falling down his face.

 

“Is this…?”

 

“His old man finally kicked the bucket a month or so back,” Sing explained, “He didn’t leave a will or any living family.  I had to pull a few strings, if you know what I mean, but I was able to go through and see the old house. There wasn’t much, but I was able to find a few things in the attic and his childhood room and--”

 

“Thank you, Sing,” Eiji responded, his eyes now like a faucet.  His yellowish hand gently stroked one of the little shirts in the box.

 

“No problem,” Sing firmly put his hand on his shoulder, “If you weren’t in the hospital, I would have brought you with me. But since you weren’t, I figured maybe I could surprise you instead.”

 

Eiji burst into sobs, burying his face in the little blue shirt.

 

\---

 

“I don’t get it,” Retsu remarked during the car ride back, “I thought Mr. Okumura never had any kids.”

 

“He didn’t,” Sing said, “They belonged to a mutual friend of ours. A long time ago.”

 

“He died a month ago?” Retsu asked, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

 

“His father died a month ago. Our friend died when we were about your age.”

 

An awkward silence filled the car. Akira turned the radio up in hopes of quelling it.

 

“You know, Mr. Okumura actually doesn’t seem that bad,” Retsu pondered, breaking the silence, “He actually had some interesting stories about New York and Japan.”

 

“Do you want to visit him again, Retsu?” Akira smiled, turning around to look at her son.

 

“Yeah. Maybe. I think so.”

 

And so the next weekend Sing took Retsu alone. He offered to have Akira join them, but she insisted that it was better for the two of him to visit Eiji alone together. She also insisted that she had visited him a handful of times already, anyway. Not that it was a chore, but that perhaps Sing should make up for the times he missed.

 

“Wait, you’re telling me that  _ you _ knew  _ the _ Ash Lynx?” Retsu raised an eyebrow.

 

“His photos were what got me famous,” Eiji laughed, “I’m shocked you never heard about it, at least from Sing.”

 

“Nah, he never talks about  _ anything _ . I only know my old man here was a total delinquent because my mom told me. But there’s  _ delinquency  _ and then there’s  _ Ash Lynx _ . I mean isn’t he a total legend who they said not only escaped death multiple times but hammered down, like, hundreds of men all on his own without a scratch?”

 

“I think that might be a slight exaggeration,” Eiji laughed, “But yeah, your dad and I actually met because of him. I guess you could say he was our mutual friend.”

 

“That was a long time ago,” Sing interjected, “And I know Eiji doesn’t like to talk about it.”

 

“Wait,” Retsu continued, ignoring his father, “Are you saying  _ you _ were a gang member, Mr. Okumura?”   
  
“No, no, not me,” Eiji laughed, “I just...I came from Japan to photograph him.”

 

“That’s awesome, man!”

 

“I guess it was,” he smiled.

 

The next time Sing came alone. Retsu and Akira were going back to Japan to visit her family during their son’s school vacation, leaving him alone for a couple weeks. He didn’t specifically plan on visiting Eiji, but after visiting twice he found it hard to stay away.

 

“We’ve kind of drifted apart the past few years, haven’t we, Sing?” Eiji smiled, “I’m glad we can reconnect now.”

 

“Yeah. I’m sorry, I have no real excuse.”

 

“Sure you do,” Eiji frowned, “You have a wife and son to take care of. I also hear you’re doing pretty well career wise. It’s natural that you’re busy. It’s more important for you to spend the spare time you  _ do have _ with Retsu, especially at the age he is.”

 

“I spend plenty of time with him and the wife. But what about you?” Sing asked, “Did you ever...find someone?”

 

“No,” Eiji smiled sadly, looking at his hands that gripped his hospital blanket, “I tried a few times, but it always felt wrong.”

 

“Wrong?” he asked.   
  


“Well you know,” Eiji fiddled with the blanket, “He was the love of my life, Sing.”

 

“I know,” Sing sighed, “But...that doesn’t mean you have to be lonely your whole life.” 

 

“I’m  _ not _ lonely. I have made a lot of close friends over the years, but I only have one true love in my life. I feel like him and I...we had a sort of love that most people  _ never  _ get to experience so...I’m grateful to have had that. My life wouldn’t be any more fulfilling had I tried to force another like that into my life. It’s not what I ever needed. Not once.”

 

“Did you find happiness?” Sing asked bluntly, yet softly.

 

“Yes,” Eiji nodded, closing his eyes, “I think I’ve lived a very fulfilling life. I might not live to be as old as many would hope, but I am ready to go with no regrets.”

 

“Don’t talk like that.”

 

“I’m dying, Sing,” Eiji said in a soft, yet accepting tone, “This has been progressing in me for years now, and I know there’s no getting better from it. I saw what it did to my father when he was my age. I know that I don’t have much time left...but I’ve accepted it now.”

 

“Stop it!” Sing raised his voice, instinctively standing up from the bedside chair from which he sat, “You aren’t dying! People in here are working day and night to get you better. Just because your dad--medical technology has advanced so far since then! You’re going to be okay!”

 

“Sing--”

 

“Aren’t you trying to get a transplant?” Sing insisted, “I know plenty of people would search to the end of the world to find you a donor.”

 

“It doesn’t work like that, and you know it Sing,” Eiji sighed, “The wait list is too long and they found I am hard to find a match. With my current health, they’re not even sure I would make it through the surgery. I would rather someone healthier with more to lose get it.”

 

“Screw the wait list!” Sing found himself practically yelling, “You know my line of work, I can get you one! Just say the word! Hell, if we’re a match, I’ll give you part of  _ mine _ ! It doesn’t have to be like this.”

 

“I’m not afraid of dying, Sing.”

 

“Well I’m afraid of losing you!” Sing yelled.

 

Without thinking, he stormed off. Away from the room, away from the hospital, away from Eiji. He couldn’t deal with this. He just couldn’t. He didn’t know why Eiji would say such a thing. He hated how now he was acting more immature than his 16 year old son, sobbing into his steering wheel. He hated this, he hated everything.

 

If only he dragged him that day. If only he spoken to his brother. If  _ that _ didn’t happen.

 

Eiji would be fighting this.

 

\---

 

A voice in his head told him he was wrong, but he just couldn’t bring himself to see Eiji again. Akira went a few more times, taking Retsu about half of them. He wasn’t sure what force prevented him from going again, but one definitely felt like it existed. He told himself that he didn’t want to see Eiji like that. He didn’t want to visit him if he was so resigned to his own death that he would just accept it. He would rather remember the young, vibrant Eiji that was overly stubborn for his own good.

 

Though really, he knew a lot of it was probably his own guilt. Guilt over what had happened all those years ago, guilt over losing contact with him over the past several, guilt over taking so long to visit him. Guilt over storming out as he did.

 

Deep down, he even knew that Eiji’s disease was terminal and there was nothing he nor any doctor could do. He knew was being unrealistically harsh towards a dying man. He knew that he should be by his side the little time he had left.

 

Maybe this was somewhat how Ash felt. No, Eiji wasn’t dying back then...at least not for long. But still, Ash knew that Eiji was going to go far away, perhaps never to return. Ash felt like he would never be able to have Eiji in his life again, and instead of relishing the short time left and saying goodbye, he decided to simply avoid the situation as it was. He had been so frustrated with Ash’s inability to say goodbye, but perhaps now he understood it.

 

Sure, the situation was different. Very different. But saying goodbye was harder than he had ever expected. He had said goodbye to so many people he loved in his 40 some odd years, more than most given the life he had chosen. Yet that didn’t make this any easier. For some reason, somehow, the concept of saying goodbye to Eiji was one of the hardest of any he had ever dealt with.

 

Perhaps because he truly loved Eiji. Sure, he was never able to figure out whether or not he was  _ in love _ with Eiji. Not that it mattered. Eiji himself said it best, he already found the love of his life and he didn’t need another one. Above all, Sing was happy with Akira and the life they had made together in their 20 years of marriage. Still, Eiji would always have a piece of his heart.

 

That didn’t stop him from staying away.

 

“Did you have something you wanted to tell your father?” Akira announced at the dinner table.

 

“Oh yeah! Mr. Okumura showed me the coolest picture of Ash Lynx--”

 

“No, no, not that,” Akira laughed, “About school.”

 

“Oh right,” Retsu blushed slightly, though trying to brush it off in the cool teenager way, “I got a 4.1 on my report card.”

 

“A 4.1?” Sing raised an eyebrow skeptically, “Is that even possible?”

 

“It’s from his AP classes,” Akira glowed, “He’s doing absolutely amazing in school.”

 

“That’s great son!” Sing punched his son’s arm lovingly, “I knew you had brains in you. It was just a matter of getting you focused.”

 

“Hey, my 3.3 last semester was really good by most standards, too!” he scoffed, shoving a bite of food into his mouth.

 

“Hey, that was a compliment!” Sing frowned, grabbing his plate to wash in the kitchen. Akira finished the last of her own plate and followed him in.

 

“Teens are sure something, huh?” Akira laughed, gently placing a hand on her husband as he scrubbed his dish, “But I think he’s growing up just fine.

 

“How was he today?” Sing asked without looking up.

 

“Retsu? His grades made him very--”

 

“Eiji.”

 

“Oh,” Akira’s tone dropped.

 

“Oh?”

 

“He asked for you.”

 

“You both know I had work.”

 

Akira picked up a towel to idly clean a spill on the counter. “He doesn’t have a lot of time left, Sing. He’s getting worse...fast. His sister came last week to say her goodbyes, though she is leaving to go back to work in a few days. My uncle called me to say that is flying in next week...He just retired, so he’s planning to stay until...Until...”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Then go see him before it’s too late,” Akira simply told him as she placed the towel down on the counter. She turned to go back into the dining room. “Otherwise, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

 

Despite his wife’s words, he still didn’t go the next weekend. Or the next. That is, until few weeks later Sing got a call to his practically unused landline.

 

“Is Akira there?” a somewhat familiar voice asked. 

 

“No, she’s at some event for our son’s school right now. Can I ask who’s speaking?”

 

“This is her Uncle Shunichi. It’s about Eiji.”

 

\---

 

Sing usually abode traffic laws, but he had never driven so fast in his life. He wouldn’t care if a thousand police cars were trailing him, nothing could make him slow down.

 

“Dammit, dammit, dammit!” he yelled, “Siri call Akira.” He had tried calling her several times, but no answer. She had her damn phone turned off. But no matter, he was going to get to that damn hospital even if it killed him. 

 

Shunichi, Akira’s uncle, had flown in from Japan a couple weeks ago by now. He was in his late 50s or early 60s and had known Eiji before any of them. He was who brought him to New York in the first place. He loved Eiji dearly, and according to Akira was more in denial about his failing health than anyone. Besides Eiji’s younger sister and her family, Shunichi was the closest thing to family Eiji had.

 

So for Shunichi to say Eiji had mere hours left...

 

Sing rushed into through the hospital entry, banging on the elevator buttons as if it would force it to come any faster. 

 

“Sing!” Shunichi called out to him from outside Eiji’s room when he spotted him, “Where is Akira?”

 

“I couldn’t get ahold of her! That thing at Retsu’s school is supposed to go all day. I don’t--I can’t--”

 

“Sing?” a weak voice called from within. Sing’s heart pounded. He didn’t wait for a nurse to let him in. In fact he practically shoved her as he ran in to be by Eiji’s side.

 

“Yes, Eiji. It’s me, I’m here,” Sing grabbed his weak hand, “I’m right here.

 

“You look so different,” he stared deeply at him as he spoke in Japanese, “You’ve gotten older, you know.”

 

“Unlike you,” Sing laughed through his tears, responding in Eiji’s native language, “You probably haven’t aged a day since we first met.” Sing had been told that in these last couple days, Eiji had become confused. He had reverted to only speaking Japanese, the doctors unsure if he had completely forgotten English. Shunichi and Akira had been able to help translate for him. Now Sing could as well.

 

Shunichi came in slowly and addressed Eiji in Japanese, “Sing is here now. I am going to go out and get some food and rest. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Three hours tops? Alright?”

 

“Alright,” Eiji answered almost robotically, as if he barely registered what was being said.

 

Shunichi had been awake helping with Eiji for over 48 hours, claiming to be a blood relative. Sing knew it pained Shunichi to leave him in this state, but he needed his rest. Eiji could hold on that long.

 

Sing moved to the chair and grabbed a tissue to wipe his face. He would watch over Eiji. The doctors would have to drag him away before he would leave his side.

 

“Talk to me, Eiji,” he finally said as the silence grew too long for comfort. 

 

Eiji took a moment before he responded. “It’s not scary, Sing.”

 

“What’s not?” he raised a head. Truthfully, he was scared of whatever answer this dazed Eiji would give him. Thankfully, he seemed to not register the question and continued to trail off in his near drunken sounding tone.

 

“You don’t need to be sad. It’s going to be okay. I’m going to be with him.”

 

“Him? With...Ash?”

 

“Do you think he will recognize me?” Eiji asked, weakly bringing a hand to feel his face, as if to determine his own appearance.

 

“Of course,” Sing felt the tears run down his cheeks. He forced himself to take a deep breath, as hard as it was through his sobs. “I told you, you haven’t aged a day. He’s going to be so happy to see you again.”

 

“I’ve missed him so much, Sing,” tears suddenly formed in Eiji’s eyes as well, “There hasn’t been a day gone by that I don’t miss him.”

 

“I’m sure he’s missed you. What’s not to miss?”

 

Eiji merely let out a light chuckle.

 

Half an hour passed of near silence. It was the mere beeping of Eiji’s medical machinery that kept Sing aware that he was still alive. He watched each heartbeat show up on the monitor. Each beep, signifying that Eiji was still with him. 

 

“Is that you?” Eiji finally asked weakly. Sing shot up like a rocket and instantly ran to kneel at his bedside.

 

Eiji had asked the question in English.

 

“Yes Eiji, it’s me,” he cried, deciding to answer still in Japanese,  “It’s me, Sing. I’m here for you. I’ll  _ always  _ be here for you.”

 

“Where have you been all this time?” he asked, once more in English.

 

Was Eiji coming back together? Was he regaining his mind? Would he defy the odds once more and pull through? “Oh Eiji, I don’t know. I shouldn’t have ever--”

 

“Have you been waiting for me?” a tear ran down his cheek. 

 

It was then Sing realized that Eiji wasn’t speaking to him. He was looking straight up to the ceiling, a large yet serene smile on his face. He was crying happy tears.

 

“This whole time?” Eiji asked softly, “This whole time...you’ve really been right here all along?”

 

“Oh Eiji,” Sing found hugged him as tightly as he could without obstructing his tubes. It was as if Eiji didn’t even register what he was doing.

 

It turned out that those were the last words Eiji would ever speak.

 

He didn’t die that moment. Shunichi was able to return, Akira and Retsu were finally able to be contacted and rushed to the hospital as soon as they could. They were able to see Eiji in his room, his heart rate still consistent, his breathing still present with the continual rise and fall of his chest. 

 

But Sing already knew he was long gone. Ash had come for him, and Eiji happily accepted his embrace. His body may lay there comatose, but his soul was a million miles away. Or perhaps, as Eiji’s last words implied, they were still here. Maybe, even after their time had come, they would  _ always  _ be here.

 

Eiji’s final wishes had been to end life support if he were to ever become comatose. The doctors fulfilled his wish and pulled the plug. It took less than an hour for his body to join his soul.

 

Despite his many fans, Eiji’s will requested him to have a small, private funeral. It was a lovely ceremony on a bright warm day, in an abnormally peaceful cemetery near the water.  Eiji would have loved it. He would be disappointed that there was no legal way to bury him where Ash was, now next to his own parents hundreds of miles away. But it didn’t really matter. Even if their physical bodies remained far apart, their souls would never be separated again.

 

Some friends from the olden days showed up that Sing hadn’t seen for decades. He got to see the Lobos for the first time in probably ten years. Michael Lobo was married now, bringing his wife and young daughter with him. The girl’s name was Ashley.

 

Even at Sing’s age, even after all the people he had lost due to his lifestyle, saying goodbye never became easy. He always knew saying goodbye to Eiji was going to be the hardest. He had hoped it would come decades later than it did.

 

But perhaps this wasn’t goodbye. Perhaps Eiji would always be here.

 

Sing put his arm around his wife and son as they went towards their car to head home.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Meanwhile anime Ash and Eiji are living their best lives in Japan.
> 
> Also my grandfather reverted back to his native language his last few days. So that's where that came from.


End file.
